


Happy little airlock of death

by Tescont



Category: The Mechanisms (Band)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-24
Updated: 2020-05-24
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:42:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24350749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tescont/pseuds/Tescont
Summary: Sometimes Jonny gets lost in the corridors. Who could blame him. Sometimes he even finds a particular airlock that was already the last door for two of the Aurora's denizens. But he definitelly never thinks about joining them what are you implying!?
Comments: 9
Kudos: 52





	Happy little airlock of death

**Author's Note:**

> I got dttm feels. They needed to go somewhere. They went into a single sentence that turned into 700 words. Also there are some fucks and I have no idea how to rate shit.
> 
> All mistakes are mine. If you find any, please tell me. If you don't like it, please tell me. If you do, please don't, I'll blush and my head may come off.
> 
> Also maybe a bit of dttm spoilers? Nothing tangible, just a... general idea.

It is easy to get lost on the Aurora. Even living there for so long would make it hard, with all the memories of corridors that were there 300 years ago. Add the fact that at least part of the ship is always being repaired (not only is she old, she is extremely unlucky when it comes to her owners) and that the fucking corridors change, and you have a maze that is living and full of spite. Probably. It's easier to call it spite than to try to understand the fucking thing.

There were only ever two people (even though "people" might be a generous term) who never had any issue with it. One because she was too frightening and the ship never dared to play any of her games, the other because, well, you wouldn't try to trap forever the only one that really cares about you (oh the levels of ew that were involved). They are both gone now.

Sometimes he thinks about them. When the lights of Aurora are dim and when he hasn't met anyone in the moving corridors for days (maybe days, days aren't real in cosmos). There is a way out of all of this, it's clear and simple. A one-way trip, and somehow he always finds himself right in front of the first step.

Well he always shoots the airlock, never crossing the distance any closer to when he first sees it, but something about the door is ominous. It is always so close... yes it entirely deserves one dent more. Maybe one day he'll shoot through, at last, and no one will come fast enough to fix it. And it won't matter anymore. Because what use is being immortal if there is no atmosphere.

That's why he is so surprised. This time, when the airlock emerges behind the curve of a very long (and let me tell you the whole ship shouldn't be long enough in any direction to fit it inside) corridor, he doesn't shoot it. He goes for his gun for sure, but relaxes his hand on the handle. Damn thing still in holster. There is something glimmering near the "Emerge" button. He is drawn closer, almost against his will, but he can't avert his eyes.

The button is coated in a single drop of quicksilver.

This is The Airlock. It always has been one and the same out of the many among the spaceship. This one far away to not be used all that much. Clearly not at all since Nastya decided to take it. It might very well be the oldest part of the ship by now, with the constant repairs and replacements that were needed everywhere else, because violent immortal space pirates aren't good for sustainable spaceships. Something about that rings ironic.

He can see all the dents made by his own gun. Millenia of long walls in infinite corridors that always ended here, with the same thought, with the same conclusion. There is a way out of this madness and it takes only one push of a button. Doesn't even have to be the one coated in blood. Because what good is being immortl if there is no atmosphere.

He knows he'll never take the one-way ticket. Never push the bloody button (in all the senses the word can have). For one because he knows he won't. Being privy to your death? Amazing suicide prevention. If you are set to die in a certain place at a certain time, you don't want to do it anywhere else all that much. You just roll with it. But also because there is always the tiny sliver of chance, that, maybe, one day he could be found. If he did it. Could meet a planet. Could be scooped up by a random sammaritan spaceship. And he would be all alone. Without his crew, without his friends. Without anyone screaming that he's not the captain. Without those who tell the stories.

With that he turns.

"Brian?! Somebody? Can you tell me where the fuck I am! Aurora you either get me back to the cockpit or so help me, I'll shoot you again, somewhere new. You know the new ceiling plating in the mess hall looked rather nice, yeah, say goodbye to that one." With this scream he turns away from the airlock and starts walking against the nearest wall, without a care in the world. But he can't help it, before he loses view completely, he looks back, towards the reminder. "Let's find some stories to be told."  
And shoots the airlock. For tradition's sake.

**Author's Note:**

> They probably went off to the Yggdrasil system after this.


End file.
